Whisper in my Eyes
by darkmarkgirl
Summary: Ron and Hermione fall in love.


Whisper in my eyes

Hermione stretched her legs out on the picnic blanket Ron had set out for them. Her mind filled with ecstasy as she lifted her eyes to the heavens above, exploding and showering rains of rubies and sapphires down on them. As she lay there, looking with passion at the breathing heavens, her joy radiated not from the sparkles of light above but from the warm body of the man beside her. Yes, Ron Weasley was sitting beside her, not next to Lavender, but her. A thrill raced through her, shivering her spine. She snuggled deeper into the core of his maroon sweater, a silly feeling of delight tangling with her joy as the wool tangles tickled her nose. Happiness ran through her veins, medicine to all the maddening thoughts that had raced around her head for weeks, most of them ending in ways to corner Ron….

Before she knew it she laughed, crying out to the sky above, which clouded her laugh, thick with smoke and dust.

Frantically, she whipped her head around at Ron. He hadn't noticed. His pale blue eyes reminded her of a clearest part of a lake as he gazed into the sky, full of blankness and tranquility. Hermione could only see the reflection of fireworks swimming through his irises, fading and replacing the other.

Tears skimming the edges of her eyes, she turned to look at the other figure at the end of the mat-Harry. As always, his dark black hair was matted and dirty, a shocking contrast against the violent red of the picnic blanket. As each firework cracked, she could see a strip of his legendary black hair turn an eerie platinum white in the light. Hermione felt a sudden sadness for her friend. He was sitting there, also staring into the sky. But his green eyes seemed to be searching for something-something indefinable. Like Ron's, his eyes were clouded over, but Hermione could not see the refection of fireworks in them.

Hermione turned her head from side to side, taking in each of her friends in turn. The part of her that once felt fondness for her two friends (more for Ron, of course,) was now fear and anxiety. How would she cope, if she was to loose one of them? Was this the last time they could ever sit here together, innocent and unworried on a picnic blanket, without loosing another part of themselves?

She shook her head. It would do no good to dwell on these things. As much as she worried for them, she had to believe in Fate, that its hands would handle their lives carefully.

Pushing it to the back of her mind, Hermione reached for a strawberry under the basket lid. It was the last one, she knew. The sweet, juicy taste of a strawberry seemed the only important thing to her at the moment, to ease her worries and calm her senses. Longing to taste it, she lunged for the spot it inhabited.

What she was not expecting was to bump into a very solid, very un-sweet object that was defiantly not a strawberry. Startled, she looked up. Ron Weasley's dotted face was looking down at her, his ears as soft and colored as a red tomato.

"Sorry," he muttered, his voice full of embarrassment. Ron looked away from her, fidgeting absentmindly with the basket.

Bitter disappointment filled her, ruthlessly forcing away the strange yet pleasant waves of joy that had flooded through her heart when she felt his hand. She couldn't help but wonder if Ron had done it on purpose, or he'd just made a mistake. Trying to decide, Hermione looked at him in her fake-casual way she had practiced for many months. Her frizzy hair hid her passionate eyes as she looked at the man she'd loved for many months.

Fireworks were spitting in the sky, the sounds of the fireworks were cracking in the hot July air, and sonorous cheers were rising from the surrounding crowd below, lighting up the fireworks. Bright yellow, green, and gold colors sent bursts of light on the trees, giving everything a golden glow. Ron was drinking the sights all in. His amber brown eyes watched it hungrily, as if wondering if he'd ever see it again. Hermione's heart raced faster. Could she…was it worth the risk?

Her body seemed to decide for her. Hermione's brain felt as if it had been fried by the fireworks as her muscles began to move. Slowly, she edged her way over to Ron, coming to rest on a spot of grass next to him. She breathed…what a wonderful smell! The homely smell of the Weasley home filled her nostrils, as well as the smell most men carried from shaving. Lovingly, she touched his cheek with hers, the warmth from his body much different from the midsummer night air.

"Beautiful night isn't it?" she whispered, caressing his cheek with her hand. She felt the slight prickling of Ron's stubble of a beard, but that only made her want to touch him more.

"Yeah," said Ron absentmindly, still admiring the fireworks. A spurt of green exploded in the sky, drizzling aquamarine tears that faded into light gold, leaving only a ghost of its brilliance behind.

Hermione's throat constricted. Suddenly anything she'd planned to say, or thought about doing, seemed stupid and worthless against the beautiful, strong, powerful sky.

"You know," said Ron suddenly, startling Hermione out of her reverie, "They really are beautiful."

"Yes, I think so too," said Hermione, wishing he would say the same thing about her.

"They just keep on coming and coming," said Ron in a strange voice, turning his head back towards the sky. "Always beautiful, each one more amazing than the next."

"M-hm," murmured Hermione, now staring at the sky as well. She leaned against Ron and propped her feet on the picnic basket. Crookshanks curled himself around her feet, his bristly tan fur bristling against her skin and fireworks played over his glossy eyes, and in all their glory, they seemed to sing a song to her:

_Go ahead._

"Ron," Hermione whispered, bringing her face up to his. To her amazement and relief, Ron did not turn his head away. She got a glimpse of the alive sky behind him before his eyes were on her, so brilliant, full of life…

"Hermione," he whispered back, and that was all he needed to say, for Hermione knew some actions were greater than words.

They stared at each other for what seemed a precious second, the wind rippling their hair, the fireworks exploding all over the sky, tiny lanterns of light bobbing all over the field, lighting up the night . A chill swept the blanket over her sandaled feet, cocooning her legs in a loose shell and sending a silent wind rippling over the grass. Ron's crimson hair blew towards her, flashed with golden light, livened not by the fireworks, but his handsome face, his soft, luscious lips, leaning towards her…

Hermione barely felt her eyes close, or her face move as she sunk into his kiss…it was a burning passion, so hot and fiery inside, one which she had never felt before…

The basket tumbled over and into the night, but neither noticed. Her face was so deeply embedded with his they were bonded together, chained with the links of love, locked in an eternity of peace and happiness…

Red and white checkers covered Ron's golden skin and her late tan. Eyes closed, eyelashes locking, tipped with tears of happiness, they sunk into one another, both radiant, sad, and loving…

A deep emerald firework exploded over their heads, snaking its way down the dark heavens, but neither noticed. Even the fireflies danced in excitement as they rolled around, both engrossed in one another.

After what was a blissful eternity, Hermione pulled her lips apart from his. She stared into her eyes, burning with such passion that she never wanted to let him go. The softness of his skin, the wetness of his lips, dipping into hers, his breath, a sweet chocolate…

Hermione stared into his eyes, wondering…would it last forever? The sight of him illuminated against the raven black sky, handsome, in all his glory, brave, hers…

She wanted to know, but the words lost their way to her mouth. Instead, she stared at him, her teary eyes soaking into his, waiting, watching…

Ron's eyes were silken, his amber eyes lighter, alight with happiness. She watched as his eyes met hers. Slowly, the fireworks reflected in them faded and rained down, disappearing, forever. Their eyes locked, and Hermione held in a breath, although she didn't know it. Ron's eyes were fixed on her, as if willing to share a very deep secret, to comfort her, to love her…

Suddenly the field seemed overcrowded. She was hit with a strong feeling of claustrophobia, and she wanted to get away from all these people, listening, watching… she had to tell him, get him to understand, but her mouth was as empty as before, drained of all the light that had burst into her heart so suddenly…

Never before had she felt Ron's eyes pull his onto hers so strongly, but she was pulling too…her leaking eyes seemed to match his, as he pulled her closer to him, and spoke,

"_Whisper in my eyes." _

And then, Hermione knew. The intensity-the pure force that was drawing them together, closer, was one that there was no need for words. Words, after all, were sounds crafted by man, made to explain things, to clarify their actions…

_I don't need words._

Their eyes communicated more clearly than ever, now that both of them understood. Ron's eyes shone, the love in his eyes unmistakable, directed at…her.

And then, she knew. His eyes spoke-

_I love you._

A smile crept to her lips, her heart now lighter than air, and her body so light that she was sure a balloon could lift her up into those fireworks. Worry no longer filled her heart; it was cast away, no more than an insignificant speck buried in the bottom of her soul. She laughed, a gaily laugh, and threw her arms around him. Hermione had seen strength, and a promise, that he would protect her, that they were destined to be together. Feeling his arms close around her, she was the happiest woman in the world.

All seemed to fade around them. The picnic blanket uncurled around their legs as they leaned into each other, the midsummer night air was as cold-or hot- as they'd ever wanted it to be. Light flooded across the plain, basking them in a cold moonlight, lifting the darkness from Ron and Hermione as they held to one another.

It all came back into the view, the fireworks sprinting from the ground faster than ever, the forest alive with light, the knowledge that they were now one of the happy families resting on this plain, with only one another to protect, and to hang on to. Ron's kisses dabbed at her face and neck, and she felt warm, and safe in his arms, and so did he.

As Hermione Granger gazed up into the sky, watching the fireworks shoot up and free themselves from the clutches above, she no longer wondered about the road ahead, but was assured. They had one another. Even as the fireworks faded in the sky, leaving behind gray smoke clouds, the imprint was still there, not always visible, but everlasting. Alone, they were unimpressive, but together….

"Hermione?" Ron asked her, his body still warming her.

"Yes?" she answered, reclining into him, taking pleasure in his body heat.

"You can have the last strawberry."

For a second, she thought about splitting it, but decided the gooey pulp was not worth the mess. Her hand was unbrushed this time as she took the strawberry. It was a ripe one, by the feel of it. It was missing the green crown that usually topped the heads. Hermione popped it into her mouth, savoring the flavor she knew that would come from it. A second later, it was gone, leaving only a sweet, tangy flavor in her mouth. Her stomach was no fuller. Unconcerned, she leaned back against Ron and watched the sky, subconsciously petting Crookshanks in her lap and adoring the incoming fireworks, coming and going as quickly as the next.

A warm hand caressed her chin, and she was pulled into another passionate kiss. Then they unlocked, and once more, their eyes met.

Breathless, her shimmering eyes understood his, and together, they became one.

A/N: If you want me to make a chapter about Harry's view on the matter, I will. There is a lot of symbolism in here-you may have to read it more than once to understand. So tell me how you liked-or disliked-it. Review!


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